call it // cauldron // earth of winter // cut into //
dough we show // survived daughters // how to dip
// their bodies // in milk // we pray // nandalala is
stealing // makhan // singing // when did I // eat //
// the forest // in this space someone’s // lungs are
being filled // with milk see our // universe //
backgrounded // yashoda aarting cows // mother of
butter smeared hands // shows us love for // a child
does she // even remember // the daughter she
pushed // out her stream of // // face east to offer
// panchamrita // offer the hyoid // feel speech
become // weightless // my mother throws // her
sacrum // cinnamon and vanilla essence // in the
pot // watch how it // // how she tilts // into
floor // drink // don’t // drink // in milk // find //
flooded // daughters // they called it // nourishment
// risk against // tarnished // woman // lala’s
laughter // translucent // a daughter’s body //
floating // my mother says // don’t // let // the
doodh pitthi // settle // it all rises // the sugar // the
milk // the palm // swallow // agni dev when you
take a bite // remember // the first time // you faced
the altar // asked do we feed // on ourselves // how
sweet it tastes // annapurna // filling your creases
with seeds // how you fertilize // into buoy //
daughters // this is how deep should you stir //
enough // to breathe // you // have not // killed me
Copyright © 2024 by Chandanie Somwaru. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 10, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.